Sins of the Flesh (Half-Breed Series Book 2)

by Debra Dunbar

  “Cleo,” I gurgled, my mind racing. “She’s not a succubus; she’s a goddess. She’s Pele.”

  Kristin was right; the last attack had been personal – maybe more than personal. But why hadn’t Pele killed me last night when she’d had ample opportunity? If the goddess hated me enough to attempt to boil me alive in a hot tub, why share drinks with me, participate in tandem sex in a storeroom, then drunkenly plan a party at Four Seasons? It was like some kind of twisted frenemies thing.

  Oh my God. Tandem sex. I’d boinked a guy next to a goddess doing the same thing. Ewww.

  Irix shot me a quick glance, similar to what someone might give a mental patient. “You said she was a succubus. There’s a big difference between demon and goddess. Not that I’ve ever personally met a goddess. I’m just assuming they’d be more like a souped-up angel than a succubus.”

  I was feeling light-headed. “I’ve only met two demons – you and Sam, and she’s an imp. Cleo didn’t come across as any more powerful than you, and she had this whole sex-vibe going on. She stole my prey, forbade me from hunting on her island. I just assumed she was a crazy-ass greedy succubus.”

  Irix let out a deep breath and rubbed his hands along the steering wheel. “Are you sure? Because if this succubus is really a goddess, then that’s a bit of a game changer.”

  “You think?” The sarcastic words flew out of my mouth, and I grimaced. “Sorry.”

  He shook his head. “This might rule out negotiation. And until I get close enough to her to gauge her power, I’m not going to suggest an offensive strategy.”

  “So we’re back to finding the mage and hoping he knows how to send Pele back to sleep, or at least appease her with whatever he’d initially offered.”

  Like we’d ever find the damned mage. He could be anyone. Heck, he could be gone by now, off to New Jersey or something. No, we were going to have to deal with Pele directly, and my stomach rolled just thinking about it. Maybe she wasn’t as strong as I thought she was. If Irix could get close enough to check her power level, then we’d have a better idea, but I didn’t exactly want Irix that close to her. I didn’t want Irix within five miles of her.

  Suddenly I remembered what went down in the lobby and really did feel like I was about to puke. “I threatened her. Just today, I ran into her in the lobby and had a jealous moment.”

  Jealous moment. Understatement of the century.

  Irix’s mouth tightened. “Threatened her how?”

  “I told her if she got anywhere near you, I was going to kick her ass. She really gets under my skin, and I had a weak moment.”

  “Well, that’s not too bad.” Irix’s expression was thoughtful. “As threats go, that was pretty minor.”

  I squirmed. “Then there was a weird Mexican standoff where she started an earthquake and I tried to tie her up in vining plants. She backed off when I broke a water container and flooded the floor. Cleo, I mean Pele, evidently doesn’t like to get wet.” Which made sense for a goddess of volcanoes and fire.

  “And?”

  I closed my eyes. “She stomped out saying she was going to make me regret it.”

  After a moment of silence, Irix put the BMW into park and pulled the key from the ignition. “Guess we should go eat then.”

  “Wouldn’t it be wiser for us to run and hide? Take the next plane off the island?” My stomach rumbled, but I was more concerned about a vengeful goddess incinerating us while we were eating steamed shrimp than my need for food.

  “Yes, but we wouldn’t make it to the terminal before you remembered you have to save every human, plant, and mineral on the island and made me turn around. I figured I might as well save us the drive. And I’m hungry.”

  “I’m scared.” I was, and Irix’s casual acceptance of the situation wasn’t helping.

  He reached over and pulled me across into his arms. “I may have never faced a divine being before, but I’ve been in far worst situations than this with demons in Hel. There’s a reason she’s toying with you. Whatever it is, it’s something we can work to our advantage.”

  I realized Irix was right. Why hadn’t Cleo killed me in the lobby when I’d nearly gotten her shoes wet? Why hadn’t she killed me the other times I’d defied her? Thinking back, the hot-tub incident was really more of a warning, otherwise the pair of us would have been dead. Why wasn’t I dead?

  “Okay.” I gave Irix a tight hug then pulled back and straightened my back. “I’m still scared, but I’m seeing a glimmer of hope in the situation.”

  “That’s my elf-girl.” He smiled and tugged a lock of my hair. “There’s a way out of this, and we’re going to figure it out. Just not on an empty stomach.”

  We got out of the car and walked hand in hand into a hibachi restaurant. Hibachi. Restaurant.

  “This is not a good idea,” I hissed, wincing as flames jumped on the table grill to my left. Everyone oohed as the chef flipped shrimp across the flames from spatula to spatula. “Can’t we go somewhere without fire, like a raw-foods place?”

  “They serve sushi here.” Irix’s voice teased, but the muscles in his arm were just as tense as mine. “Amber, there is fire everywhere – people lighting cigarettes, candles, barbecue grills. If she’s going to attack, it’s going to happen no matter where we are. At least here we’ll be on guard and surrounded by readily available fire extinguishers.”

  We sat at a huge square table with two other couples and a family of four. The kids were practically bouncing off their seats in excitement, sword fighting with their chopsticks and drinking red fizzy drinks sporting jaunty umbrella decorations. Panic crept in again.

  “Irix, there are kids here,” I hissed. “Kids.”

  He gave me a stern look. “There hasn’t been a fire in two whole days, and the only time it was targeted at us, there were no bystanders. She may be possessive and temperamental, but she doesn’t seem to do mass murder.”

  In the crowded farmers’ market, there hadn’t been any casualties, but that rancher’s kid had come very close to being crushed by a burning tree, and if I hadn’t helped, he might have died from smoke inhalation. Maybe Pele wasn’t targeting humans, but an accident was bound to happen eventually.

  Still, from her past actions, it didn’t seem likely the goddess would send her fire servant into a crowded restaurant. No, a more likely scenario would be our car exploding, or me spontaneously combusting in the parking lot.

  Irix squeezed my hand. “Trust me. I’ve seen enough warmonger demons in my days. Plague demons too. She didn’t strike you down in the lobby when you argued, and she hasn’t gone on a killing rampage. If she’d wanted to kill you, she would have done it already.”

  “Okay. You’re right. I’m overreacting again.”

  “Yes, you are.” Irix plopped a bottle of sake in front of me.

  “I can’t drink that. What if something happens? I need to be completely sober.”

  “No, you don’t. You’re wound so tight that I don’t trust you not to blow the whole place up. I’d prefer you drunk. Besides,” —his voice turned teasing— “Pele wants me. No way she’d risk burning me to bits. Sex with a burnt-to-charcoal demon wouldn’t be fun.”

  “She’s already cooked you twice. Maybe she does want you charred and crispy.”

  “Then she’s pretty darned kinky.” Irix nudged the sake. “Drink. Eat. Relax. We’ll strategize later on a full stomach.”

  I poured the sake into the little cup and was amazed at how steady my hands were as I took a drink. The cool, smooth liquid hit my empty stomach and shot through my veins. Our chef appeared with a bow and a brief knife-and-spatula juggling routine. He drew a smiley face with a squirt bottle of oil then set it alight. I jumped, thinking this chef had a lot in common with my nemesis. Pyros, both of them, although I doubted Cleo ever did the smiley-face thing.

  It was okay. Nothing happened beyond some sizzling beef and pork on the grill. I took a huge breath, held it, then let it out, trying to purge all the stress from my body with the
exhale.

  “So, tell me about the surfing lessons.”

  Irix, trying to take my mind off the mini bonfires around us. I smiled, grateful for his calm. “I suck, although today I seemed to suck a whole lot less than I did when I got here. Maybe by the end of our vacation, I’ll be doing aerials.” I laughed. “Or not. I really do suck.”

  “I can’t believe that. You’re a speedy, tree-climbing, agile-as-a-monkey half-elf. Surfing should be as easy as walking.”

  “Unfortunately not. But what I lack in skill, I make up for in my knowledge of surfing terms and etiquette.”

  I told him all about the heinous sin of dropping in, the rules of right-of-way in the lineup, what a duck-dive was, and when to kick out. All the while, I steadily drank sake, not even blinking as another bottle appeared before me. It was working. I was relaxed, but Irix better be alert and on his game, because it would suck if I had to grow a forest of bamboo in a hibachi restaurant while drunk.

  Knives flipped in a whirl as our chef sliced and diced, moving meat and vegetables around on the grill. The kids cheered, and with a quick smile their way, he piled the rings of onions into a little mountain. My breath locked in my throat as I realized what he was going to do. With a flick of his wrist, he’d poured oil into the center of the stack of onions. Flames erupted from the middle, shooting up.

  “Pele came back to Maui,” he told the kids. “This her volcano.”

  The kids clapped. I guzzled sake. The little onion volcano sputtered, the flames dying into a puff of smoke, and I relaxed. It was okay. Nothing beyond sautéed onions. A spark leapt from the column of smoke. I shrieked, tossing my water onto the onions. Water beaded, sizzling and dancing across the hot surface. The chef froze, knives in each hand. Everyone stared.

  “Sorry. Muscle spasm.” I put the glass down and gulped the rest of my sake. Crap, I needed to stop freaking out. Nothing had happened in two days, and whatever revenge Cleo had for me, it would probably be a whole lot more personal and painful than burned onions.

  “Bathroom,” I whispered to Irix, scooting my chair back. What I really needed was fresh air, but a splash of cold water on my face would have to do. Just a few moments to get a grip on myself, then I’d shovel down grilled shrimp and vegetables with the rest of the patrons.

  “You okay?” Irix motioned to my empty water glass with concern.

  I smiled. “Yeah. I’m fine. Get me another sake though, would you?”

  There was nothing untoward as I made my way to the restrooms. I paused by the door, walked in, then scrutinized myself in the mirror. I looked like crap. My bruises were healing under concealer and foundation, but there was a panicked look in my eyes and tense lines around my mouth. Steadying my heartbeat with a few deep breaths, I turned on the water and splashed my face. Better. No more panicking. I might be young. I might be only half demon, but I had skills. And so had Irix. And if the worst happened, I had a whole lot more than a glass of water in my arsenal.

  Finally calm, I used the facilities and washed my hands. The door opened, and the click of high heels echoed through the room barely a second before a seductive curl of power touched me. No, she wasn’t going to take me out by turning a crowded restaurant into an inferno, she was going to kill me in the women’s room. Why not? It wasn’t like our contentious relationship hadn’t been one huge stereotypical catfight since the beginning.

  After my freak-out over the onions, I was surprisingly calm. Cleo leaned against a stall door after giving it a quick inspection and watched me dry my hands. She didn’t seem particularly angry – more determined. And wary.

  “Your Irix is the most intriguing man on the island. He’s certainly the best looking man on the island.”

  Okay, talking as opposed to blowing me into a million chunks or setting me on fire. Talking was good, even if the topic was my boyfriend.

  “That’s because Irix is an incubus.” I paused at her confused expression. “A sex demon.”

  Her eyes widened. “I was mistaken. He’s the most intriguing man on the planet. Beautiful and skilled in sexual intercourse? I must have him.”

  The talking was taking a dangerous turn. I’d try to keep a rein on my temper, but I wasn’t about to hand over Irix like a breakfast sandwich. “And what if he’s not interested?”

  She waved a hand. “Nonsense. He’ll fall in love the moment he sees me. I have the looks and the passion to match his. We’re meant for each other.”

  “And if he says ‘no’, is he going to join the collection in your arboretum? A pine, or an oak tree, perhaps?”

  Suicidal, I know, but I’d rather go out with a bang than a whimper.

  Cleo had the grace to look embarrassed. “That was a phase I was going through. Now when I lose my temper, I just set things on fire. Not that it matters. He won’t say ‘no’. They never do – at least not for long.”

  We were clearly at an impasse as far as Irix was concerned, but at least we were still talking. Tension thickened the air, but neither of us had lost our temper – so far. This fascination with Irix was a new thing. I needed to discover more about her, her motives, the mage who’d awakened her, and what he’d offered.

  “So why are you here?” I waved my hand around. “Why show up and start burning up the island after resting for so long?”

  She shifted her weight, eyes not meeting mine. “Fire is what I do. Earthquakes, volcanoes, fire. These have always been my islands. I made them, and all who dwell here – including the humans – are mine.”

  “Why now? What do you want, besides Irix?”

  “The same thing you want – to live, to have the respect and fear of those I rule.”

  I got the whole ‘live’ thing, especially knowing there was a price on my head. I even got the respect thing. But fear? Cleo wanted control, and everyone I knew that wanted control had a deeper reason. Insecurity, fear, a need for predictability and order made humans crave control. I assumed goddesses weren’t that much different.

  “The moment I stepped foot on the island, I heard stories of Pele. Heck, even the hibachi chef is making mini onion volcanoes in your name. Every year tourists mail back lava rocks because they are afraid of Pele’s curse. Half the plants on the island have some legend tied to you. You can’t get much more fear and respect than that.”

  She shrugged a shoulder. Her whole posture screamed nonchalance, but there was a pleased smile hovering around her lips.

  “Why now? Why come here now, and why burn the possessions of people who clearly revere you?”

  The smile turned into a tight frown, and the air crackled. “Not your business, sister. All you need to know is that I’m awake and I’m taking your man.”

  Irix. Shit, I’d been holed up in this bathroom for far longer than expected. If I didn’t get out of here soon, he’d be liable to come looking for me. And I really didn’t want him near Cleo.

  “We’ll table that one for later discussion.” I pushed away from the sink and headed to the door only to find the doorknob smoking and red-hot.

  “Do not walk away from me when I am speaking with you. It’s rude.”

  That was dangerously close to something my mother would say – and Cleo wasn’t my mother. I couldn’t leave without severely burning my hand. Heck, I wasn’t sure I could leave even with burning my hand. The sensible thing to do would be to apologize and make nice with Cleo. It’s what my elven half would have done. Unfortunately, my demon half seemed to be calling the shots lately.

  “What’s rude is accosting me in a bathroom, threatening to steal my boyfriend, then refusing to let me return to my dinner.”

  More than the doorknob began to smoke, light-gray tendrils wafting up from the baseboards and trim. “What’s rude is your insolence and lack of respect while you are visiting my islands.”

  She had a point, although up until tonight, I hadn’t known they were her islands. And as far as I knew, being a guest didn’t involve turning over one’s boyfriend to the hostess. I doubted that was in even the
strictest of etiquette books. I opened my mouth to try to diffuse the situation, but my words were drowned out by a high-pitched shriek.

  Both Cleo and I blinked. Then the sprinklers kicked in, dousing the pair of us with water.

  It was cold. I caught my breath, instinctively raising my arms to cover my head. Cleo screamed loud enough to be heard over the fire alarm and flailed about like an electrocuted banshee. Words in what I could only assume were Hawaiian poured out of her, fast, loud, and angry. I knew she had an intense dislike of water, but from the way she was acting, I expected her to start melting like the wicked witch.

  Instead she turned to me, still beautiful, even with drenched hair and clothing. She shook – either with fury or cold, I didn’t know — and said something I decided must be a string of curse words.

  I might not understand what she was saying, but the message came through loud and clear.

  “This wasn’t my fault. You set it off with your melted doorknob and smoke show. I can’t even turn it off. I think the fire department has to do that.”

  “You.” The words were hissed, but somehow I still heard them over the deafening alarm and loud spray of the sprinklers. “You once again show your disrespect for me. Just as you always have. I may be your little sister, but I am also a powerful goddess who will not stand for such behavior. You attack me in my own home, on my islands? This is war.”

  Holy shit. We’d been fine, just talking, and I’d thought maybe, Irix issue aside, we might be on the path to peaceful negotiations. And now it was all over thanks to fire code requirements.

  “I didn’t do it! I promise, Cleo, err, Pele. I didn’t do this.”

  Just then a sprinkler head snapped, and a gush of water dumped down right on top of the goddess’s head. Oh for fuck sake. Could I have any worse luck?

  Yes, yes I could. Pele screamed, fire erupting from her. I ducked under the sinks, rolling across the wet floor. We were locked in a bathroom. There were only so many places for me to run and hide, and if this fire was anything like the fire servants who had been setting Maui ablaze, all the water in the toilets wouldn’t help me.